A Night to Remember
by Annemarie01
Summary: This night started very well and shortly afer that turned into a nightmare ... until a saviour appeared.


**This short story has been lingering on my computer for quite a while, begging for my attention. And as it doesn't fit into my long story or any others I have momentarily in mind, I finally decided to heed its plea and post it as a one shot. I hope you like it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

A Night to Remember

It was a rough night, a fierce wind was sweeping through Kirkwall, bringing with it slashes of rain; the water poured down like a blanket of wetness. Hawke had decided that this was the perfect time to sit in her library, a glass of whisky on the side-table next to the couch, a book in her hands and a roaring fire in the hearth. She had taken a bath and changed into a loose nightshift and evening-robes. She had sent her servants away, giving them money to have a good diner in one of the lovely restaurants in Hightown and a nice drink in one of the many taverns after their meal. ('Everywhere but the Hanged Man,' she had warned Bodahn, 'or the Rose. There are taverns enough to enjoy a drink without shocking Sandal and Orana.' The dwarf had nodded and smiled eloquently, perfectly knowing what she meant.)

For the first time since many years she had wished to be alone ... well, it would have been better if a certain elf had been present to keep her company of course but this was as good as it could get. She wasn't plagued with the awful memory of the death of her mother anymore, at least not at daily basis and the crushing feeling of guilt had subsided, due to time and the support of her friends. She still only wistfully entered her mother's bedroom but going through her former belongings and eyeing the space she had once occupied had become less painful. It had been years by now and she had learned to live with the regret.

In the meantime the autumn storm raged on.

She loved this kind of weather and wanted to get pleasure from every moment while sitting before a warm fire with a good book to read and a nice drink at hand. All on her own. Without the two dwarfs and the small elven girl to interrupt her thoughts. Besides that, her servants had deserved a night on the town on her account; they were faithful and loyal and supportive. She considered them more as family than employees. It had taken a lot of time to earn Orana's trust but at least the elven girl wasn't as jumpy as she had been and had actually started enjoying life. Marian had made certain they wouldn't suffer from the bad weather; she had given them enough money to hire a coach.

She felt almost perfectly content if it wasn't for the absence of Fenris. She tried not to think of him, but failed gloriously. She wanted to focus on the text she pretended to read, but her thoughts all but wandered to him. What was he doing? Getting cold and wet in that dilapidated mansion of his? Drinking wine? Exercising reading and writing? Thinking of her? She sighed. It was more than three years since their wonderful one-time lovemaking and still she could not get that magnificent night out of her mind. On regular basis she got dragged out of her sleep because of a mighty orgasm, waking up because of dreaming of his deftly fingers and tongue, his tender and yet passionate caresses, his hardened length forcefully pounding inside her ... With a curse she picked up the book she had neglected for the last minutes and re-read the last line, trying to pick up the story before her thoughts had gone their own dangerous way. Again.

They had managed to act like friends around each other after that fateful night that had left her totally broken and devastated. Perhaps even more than the loss of her mother had done, certainly intensified by that gruesome occurrence. But eventually she had learned to cope with him and her never ceasing feelings of love for him. He had never taken a new lover and neither had she. Not even a one night stand to release her frustrated sexual tension. He was never a heartbeat away from her thoughts, she needed him like she needed the air to breathe but she accepted that he on his turn needed his space and at the same time she hoped fervently that one day he would come back to her.

* * *

She started when she heard a rumour at the entrance of the library and turned her head, hoping against better judgement it would be her lovely, adorable, mind shattering elf. With a slight disappointment she saw it was Anders and she intensely hoped he wouldn't harass her again with his manifesto. Not now. Not this evening. As a matter of fact she didn't want him around at all and she already opened her mouth to tell him so. At that very moment she noticed the hunted, alarming look in his eyes and immediately got alert. She threw her book aside and got up.

'Anders! What is wrong? Did the templars find you?'

She had given him a key to the entrance of her cellar, close to his clinic, to be used in times of danger. She was always afraid that one day someone would betray him despite the good he did as an extremely skilled and dedicated healer. Poverty was a poor companion and the prospect of money could people drive to evil deeds. Frankly she was amazed it hadn't already happened. She had to admit she didn't harbour very warm feelings for his crazy idea to free all mages in Thedas but on the other hand she didn't want to see him being captured and dragged to the Gallows either. That would end in his death or being made tranquil what probably was even worse. The mage kept staring at her with that disconcerting look.

'No,' he said hoarsely, 'it's not the templars that are bothering me.'

* * *

For years he had yearned for her, wanting her, dreaming of her. When that beast had wormed himself into her bedroom and left her the same night, hurting her like hell, he had hoped she would turn to him. He had been understanding, patient, waiting for what he had for a long time thought was inevitable, but she had never given herself to him. Justice had grown intolerant, growling in his head to take matters in his own hand, to be done with it so he could turn his attention to the need of mages once more. She was only a distraction to their ultimate goal. And finally he had given in to the spirit's complaints. Justice was right after all; he loved her, she belonged to him, he could give her so much more than that wild dog that had just wound her. He could repair her, heal her, make her feel whole again. He could chase those longing, hurting glances she still casted at that – feral animal away forever. If only she would see ... he would make her see. This night he would convince her they were made for each other. He was at the end of his patience and completely wound up.

'_Just get on with it, won't you,_' Justice pressed on.

Hawke had risen from the couch and faced him with a concerned look. Anders moved quickly, not giving her time to think and within two paces he stood before her, taking her into his arms. She congealed at first and then tried to wriggle free, but he held her like a vice. He captured her lips with his and kissed her ferociously.

'Anders, don't,' she cried out when she had managed to remove from his demanding lips but he didn't listen. He had had a taste of her and he wanted more. He bit her lower lip and took advantage of her gasp to plunge into her mouth. His tongue battled with her unwilling one. He explored the cavern of her mouth with ecstasy, getting hungry for more. His hands moved to her nightshift and he shredded the garment so he got access to her bare breasts. He kneaded her soft yet firm mounts eagerly, deaf to her calls to stop. Again she attempted to break free, but he was far stronger than she was and held her captured in his arms with ease. He left her mouth and moved down her body. He sucked one of her nipples, not paying heed to her pleads. His hand wandered further south to the hidden entrance between her legs while he sank his teeth into the crook between her neck and shoulder, drawing blood. He wanted to mark her, she was his. She tried to fight him off but he was determined to have her. He took her scream of pain as an expression of pleasure and repeated his bite, tasting her blood with satisfaction. His hand moved into her smalls and he rubbed the warm flesh of her folds. He found her entrance and pushed a finger inside her. The contact mesmerised him and made his knees buckle. They tumbled on the floor, he on top of her.

* * *

The wind was forced out of her lungs and for a moment she was completely defenceless. He took advantage of the situation and ripped her smallclothes away.

'Don't do this,' she pleaded feebly, 'please Anders, don't do this.' But he pressed on and claimed her trembling mouth once more while his finger started pounding painfully inside her. She felt herself going completely numb, she couldn't believe this was really happening. Of course she had known Anders had a crush on her; that was the reason she had been very careful with how she treated him. She was sure she never had leaded him on. And besides that she had trusted him, she had been certain he would never abuse her. She had been certain he respected her, that he would never take advantage of her. But now he did. Now he was raping her. She was so shaken she couldn't find the strength anymore to fight him off; in shellshock she just let it happen. She felt his hand grasping her breasts, his teeth biting her powerfully, and then for a second time, his other hand groping between her thighs and now his cock entering her sheath, immediately hammering her remorselessly as if he was punishing her. He writhed and grinded and groaned while she was lying frozen beneath him, not able to act. He spurned his seed into her depth with a feral grown. He hadn't even removed his robes, just hitched them up. After his last ferocious thrust he withdrew, leaving her completely wretched. She turned on her side, rolling into a ball, the heels of her hands pushed into her eyes.

Anders stood up, rearranged his clothes and looked down on her, at first feeling very content with himself. He was still panting because of his exertions, the heat of his arousal only subsided slowly; he felt warm and flushed and complete. He finally had done it, he finally had made her his own. But then it dawned to him _what_ he had done. He saw the still body of the woman he loved, hiding from his eyes, hiding away from the world. He realised he had damaged her beyond repair and he broke down. His whole body started to tremble and with much effort he just managed to stay upright.

'Damned hell, what have you done to me?' he cursed at the spirit in his head.

'_You wanted this_,' Justice replied dryly, '_you can hardly blame me. I just gave you a push to get over with it._'

Anders's knees gave way at the harsh truth of the words that blasted spirit uttered and he sank down next to the motionless form of the woman he worshiped and had badly molested. Against his will. No, not against his will if he was really honest. But had he never meant it to happen in this way. He had dreamed of her coming to him, not of this. _Oh dammit, dammit what have I done? How can I make this whole again?_

'Hawke,' he muttered, 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' She didn't move.

'Go away,' she breathed. He could hear the grief chocking her voice.

'I never meant ...'

'Go. Away,' she repeated without looking up or even changing her position.

Anders felt nauseous. His hand hovered over her head but there was no way he could comfort her. Not he. He stood up and left the library.

* * *

He fled her house, leaving the key he was trusted with on the desk in the parlour. For hours, it seemed, he wandered through Hightown, not willing to return to his clinic in the Undercity, on the other hand not knowing where to go to spill his agony. For a short moment he contemplated to run to the Hanged Man and confess everything to Varric but rejected the idea. The dwarf would kill him without a second thought. And if he didn't Bianca would. Or Isabela. Whatever the case, it wouldn't help Hawke. Finally he found himself on the steps of the Chantry, completely drenched by the still pouring rain. The Chantry. The last place he wanted to be found. But he realised what he had to do. He would not find redemption but he _would_ find the only person who'd be willing to listen to him without murdering him and take action to aid Hawke. He slipped into the temple just before the doors closed for the evening, and went straight to the cell he knew was Sebastian´s. He stumbled over the doorstep. The former prince had been caught in prayer but got warned by the noise Anders made. He immediately turned around and his eyes grew wide at the sight of the tumbling man. He jumped up and prevented the mage from falling flat out.

'Anders!' he cried out, 'what the hell –?!' He cut himself short. No curses in the Chantry. He noticed the expression on Anders's face was nothing but an upset picture of panic and misery and grew worried besides anxious.

'Somebody has to go to Hawk,' the mage panted. He was close to tears. Sebastian looked puzzled. 'Why? What happened?'

'I, I have, 'Anders stammered before making an effort to collect himself; he tried to regain some kind of self respect but failed dramatically. He broke down once more. 'I forced myself upon Hawke,' he managed to mutter, totally wrecked.

Sebastian looked at him incredulously. 'You did _what_?' he exclaimed, not trusting his own ears.

'Believe me, the only thing I want to do is going back and make it undone,' Anders whispered, 'but I can't. I'm the last person she wants to see right now.' He looked up at the Chantry brother with a desperate look in his eyes, 'but someone _has_ to go.'

Without thinking Sebastian lashed out and hit the mage square in the face with his fist. 'You bloody idiot,' he yelled,' do you have any idea what you have done?!' Anders crumpled under his force. He fell hard on the cold tiles of the cell. He knew what he had done, he bloody hell knew _too well_ what he had done. No need to answer.

'You stay here,' Sebastian snarled in a dangerous low voice, 'you stay here and wait for my return.' Anders nodded, not even trying to wipe the blood away that gushed from his broken nose. He welcomed the cold surface under his face. He closed his eyes and embraced the darkness. For some amount of time he wouldn't have to think or feel or remember.

Sebastian ran from his cell, turned back to lock the door and grabbed two Chantry sisters who happened to pass his room by the shoulders.

'Warn her Grace and tell her I hold someone prisoner in my cell who can on no term walk free,' he ordered. He wasn't even aware of the fact that he radiated the authority he used to wield as a prince; the women looked impressed if not frightened and hurried to alert the Grand Cleric. While he was racing down the temple to the entrance, Sebastian feverishly thought about whom to send to Hawk. It had to be a woman, he thought at first but when he ticked of the candidates he felt not so sure about that. Aveline was the first to spring into mind but he needed her himself to formally arrest Anders. Merrill would be the worst choice, she would just blabber and break down. He could hardly imagine her as a support to a raped woman. And Isabela ... he doubted she would be of any use. He doubted even if she grasped the meaning of "rape" at all. And then he realised there was only one person who could comfort Hawke and calm her down. He growled at the templars who guarded the doors and without thinking they let him go through. The prince demeanour once again worked, and again without he being aware of it. Within minutes he reached Fenris's mansion. He didn't even bother with knocking. He just rushed through the door.

'Fenris!' he called out, 'Are you in?' The elf immediately appeared on the landing, not wearing armour. Instead he was clad in a loose linen shirt and close fitting leather pants but he had his menacing sword in his hands. He put the intimidating weapon aside the moment he saw the prince. With a few fast jumps Sebastian reached him on the landing.

'What happened?' Fenris asked, startled by Sebastian's tense behaviour and the distressed look in his eyes.

'You have to go to Hawke and stay with her as long as she needs you,' Sebastian blurted out. Fenris's expression quickly changed from startled to alarmed.

'Why? What is wrong?' His markings flared blue. Hawke. Something was wrong with Hawke. His heart started hammering in his chest. His eyes grew dark.

Suddenly Sebastian wasn't so certain anymore if it had been such a good idea to turn to the elf. He might as well decide that ripping Anders's heart out was the best thing he would ever do. And although that might be true, Hawke wouldn't benefit from that action.

'Promise me whatever I tell you, you will go to her,' he pressed.

'Yes I promise,' Fenris growled impatiently, desperately trying to control himself, 'now tell me.'

Sebastian hesitated. At last he said rather enigmaticly, suddenly fearing the elf's reaction, 'She has been violated.'

Fenris stared at him, at first not comprehending. 'Violated?' he repeated, brows furrowed. And then it dawned upon him. He swallowed hard. 'You mean she has been – raped?' Sebastian nodded. 'By whom ...' But he needed no answer. He saw it in Sebastian's tormented look. There could only be one person to perform such a disgusting act. The one that had been hungering for her for enough time to crack eventually. 'Fucking hell, the abomination.' He had to hold on to the banister to keep himself straight. He should have seen this coming, he should have protected her more fiercely. He should have been around to prevent this. He never should have – Damn. 'Where is that monster,' he snarled.

'You promised to go to her ...'

'Of course I will go to her,' Fenris snapped, 'I just want to know he isn't running free! So that I can give him what he deserves afterwards!'

Sebastian took a deep breath, partly out of stress and partly because of relief. He had made the right decision after all. 'He is in my room, being guarded. I'm going to Aveline right now to let him thrown into one of her cells.'

'Good,' Fenris said grimly. He was already halfway the stairs when he turned back. 'Where is she?'

'In her own house,' Sebastian said, 'as far as I understood.'

Fenris almost missed a step and had to grab the railing to keep his equilibrium. 'He raped her in her own home, the bloody bastard.' He let out a string of Tevene curses and then he vanished through the front door. Sebastian puffed his cheeks before he trailed after the furious and deeply concerned elf. As soon as he got outside, he picked up his pace. The sooner he got Anders into the dungeons of the Keep, the sooner he would feel better. Only then he realized the elf had run off without his armour and even without his sword. That must have been the first time. He definitely had made the right decision.

* * *

Fenris burst into Hawke's estate and started wandering around, eager to find her. She wasn't in the parlour or living room and he ran up the stairs to her bedroom but thankfully he didn't find her there. Her nightly sanctuary had been kept unscathed. She was still able to sleep there. Soon after that he discovered her in the library, rolled into a ball of despair. He almost burst out in tears at the pitiful sight. Their fearless leader turned into some sort of equivalent of a wet ball of fur, a drowned puppy or kitten. He had to console her, whatever the cost. He carefully squatted beside her and touched her head. He whispered her name. She shrank back intensely, fiercely trying to avoid his touch. It broke his heart.

'Marian, it's me, Fenris. I'm here for you,' he said softly. She sharply drew in breath and then turned to him. The desperate look in her eyes almost nailed him down. With a sob she sat up and reached for him, trembling all over her body. He gathered her into his arms, leaned back and took her in his lap. She clang to him and pushed her face into his shoulder.

'I trusted him,' she cried, 'I trusted him. I thought he was my friend.' He held her as firm as he dared.

'I know,' he whispered. What could he say? Nothing. There were no hollow references to the afterlife with which he had tried to comfort her after her mother had died. He had hated himself for using those cheap lines although she had seemingly pulled strength from them. But now there was only emptiness. Nothing sprang into mind.

'I trusted him,' she said again, whimpering. He pulled his fingers through her dishevelled but still silky hair and stroked her back gently, trying to soothe her and in some way or another it seemed to work. She wept and shuddered, holding on to him as if he was her lifeline but finely she calmed down. He buried his face into her long honey-blonde locks and wished he could make her pain go away. Her tears had drenched his shoulder and every now and then she shivered.

'I trusted him I thought he was my friend,' she repeated ever so often as some kind of a mantra. He just held her frame firmly to his, caressing her, not uttering a word because he couldn't find words, not even in Tevene. He didn't know how long they had sat like that when her servants returned. He hadn't even been aware they hadn't been present. Bodahn was the first to notice them and he had to give it to the dwarf he immediately sensed something was desperately wrong. And since Hawke was holding on to him, and was apparently completely wasted, Bodahn turned his attention to him.

'Messere! What is going on?'

Fenris didn't move. 'I tell you later. Can you ask Orana to run a bath?'

'Yes,' he heard her murmur, 'a bath. To wash his filth away.' He flinched and embraced her even faster.

'Of course Messere,' Bodahn replied with an understanding look on his face and he heard him call out to the small elf they had saved from Hadriana's sadistic acts. He felt guilty he had to leave her to perform the task of filling the tub but he didn't dare to leave Hawke who was still shivering and holding on to him as if only he could keep her alive. After some time he heard Orana's voice, much less squeaking as he remembered, much more with confident, no doubt Hawke's doing. Marian's doing.

'The bath is ready. I shall make her a cup of tea.'

He lifted his head from Hawke's.

'Wait a moment,' he told the elf and turned to Marian. 'I will leave you to Orana now, she will help you with your bath.' Hawke grabbed him even more sternly.

'No!' she cried out, 'don't leave me!' She gripped him so fiercely she almost pushed the air out of his lungs. He closed his eyed, holding her again.

'You want me to bathe you?' He could hardly believe that, not after him hurting her and she so recently being hurt by another male.

'Yes. Please,' she pleaded, her voice hoarse from crying,' I need you. You came for me. I trust you. You alone.'

He was deeply touched by her words. _I don't deserve this. This mess is my fault. I_ _should have been more vigilant_. But without saying anything he lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs. Only now, when he put her gently on her feet in the bathing room, he noticed her clothes were ripped. It took all his self-control not to ignite his markings. He undressed her and she was standing like some kind of puppet, letting it all happen. His heart broke some more. He doubted if he would ever be able to undo what that ... _No, don't get angry, restrain yourself, she needs you, right now she depends on you, give her your care, not your_ _ferocity_. He lowered her in the bathtub and took the cloth that was resting over the side, violently trying not to notice how beautiful she was, even in her grief. And then he saw the bite-mark the abomination had left on her shoulder. He clenched his jaw_. Don't react. Don't mention it. Keep calm. For her sake._ He drenched the cloth and started to clean her arms. After that he washed her hair. He didn't dare to touch the other parts of her body, not even her legs. He knew he could trust himself but was uncertain _she_ would trust any male again. Although she had wished him to bathe her. And although she seemed to relax in the warm water, letting his fingers work her scalp, flexing her long legs, letting her hands flow on the surface. She even managed to conjure a little smile. Orana brought the cup of tea she had promised and Marian took little sips.

He felt confused, to put it mildly. All kinds of feelings were raging through his system. Now his anger was at least a little quieten down, he realized how much he cared for her. He had been craving to go back to her, telling her he was hers, that he considered her his. That he had made a big mistake to leave her, the biggest mistake of his life. He even had found himself on her threshold several times to make that final step but he always had backed away in the end. Fearing her reaction, fearing the ultimate decision to be honest. What if he couldn't live up to her expectations? What if he couldn't himself? He had a long time ago submitted to his love for her, even before that dreadful night when he had cowardly ran away. Too afraid to get attached, too afraid to give himself completely, too afraid to tie himself. His memories had been a welcome but meagre excuse. And he knew she knew. But to confess that to her after what he had done had proven to be too hard to do. Just as she, apparently, he had settled with a warm friendship.

'How did you know?' she finally asked, her voice still somewhat throaty. She jerked him out of his reflections. He removed his hands out of her lovely hair and rested them on her sun kissed shoulders, absentmindedly starting to massage them..

'Sebastian came to warn me,' he said.

'Sebastian ...?' She frowned her brows in such delicate way it made his heart flutter.

'Yes, apparently – he –´ he shuddered to mention the abomination's name, 'went to him. Beats me why.' He refused to think that monster had felt remorseful and had wanted to make amends. He wanted him to suffer for what he had done. Ripping his heart out was too good. Too quick. Draw and quarter was too good for him. 'If things have gone go right, Aveline is informed and as we speak Anders is being imprisoned in the Keep.'

'Good,' she said dismally. He allowed himself to rest his cheek on her wet hair for a moment and to softly squeeze her shoulders. She hummed approvingly which made him happy. Then he helped her to stand and wrapped her in the huge towel Orana had brought. She leant into him with hooded eyes and a contented sigh. He automatically wrapped his arms around her frame.

'Thank you,' she said and suddenly he broke. Holding her, after she had trusted him so much, wrapped in that cloth, looking so vulnerable, after all his contemplations when he washed her hair and massaged her skull and shoulders, after all the fear and sorrow and after all the spoiled time and stupid hesitations he had to tell her how he felt.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered. She looked up, clearly not knowing what he meant.

'What would you be sorry for? You didn't do anything bad to me. You are here for me!' She looked genuinely bewildered. He had to blink to force back the tears that threatened to flood his eyes.

'If I hadn't left you ... I should have been here, then all of this wouldn't have happened,' he tried to explain. 'I shouldn't have left in the first place,' he added desperately.

'Your memories,' she murmured.

'Fuck my memories,' he said harshly, 'they don't count. _You_ count.' Her breath hitched. 'Fenris ...' Wrapped in just the towel she reached for him, the cloth falling away with her gesture. 'Fenris ...'

Her perfect naked body was exposed, he saw the white scars on her honey skin and adored every single one. His beautiful warrior, his beautiful rogue. Her shining sapphire eyes were filled with want, inviting him, pleading for his touch. He couldn't help himself, he kissed her, pulling her close, roving his hands over her soft velvet frame. All the feelings he had tried to ignore for the last three years poured into him, broke through the dam he had been holding up. He couldn't hold back any longer. He wanted her to know how he felt for her, wanted to express himself.

'I'm yours,' he breathed on her lips and she opened her mouth for him. He let his tongue tangle with hers, drinking in her taste, the texture of her tongue, her lips, her whole mouth and then he withdrew, panting.

This was not right. She had suffered greatly; she had been raped for the Maker's sake! He shouldn't do this. She had to feel safety, being cared for, not another male who tried to claim her body. He had hardly time to think when she attacked his mouth on her own account. Again he recoiled. 'Marian! Do you really want to do this?'

She looked at him with those unbelievably unfhathomable blue eyes. 'Yes,' she simply said and then, suddenly, she looked panicked. 'Unless ... do you think I'm tainted? By him? That I'm not worthy ...?'

'No!' he reacted, shocked by her thought, 'But you had an extreme – encounter today ...'

'Then give me a good memory to remedy that,' she murmured, 'please, I want you, I need you. I love you Fenris.'

He almost went rigid. This was too much. He couldn't make love to her while she had been desecrated in such a brutal way earlier this day. He wasn't worthy of this.

'I love you,' she repeated as if sensing his trepidation and he knew for certain she did. She brushed her lips against his. 'And I know you love me. I see it in your eyes. I feel it in your touch. You are here for me. You don't have to tell me, just show me. I love you. Only you.'

He couldn't deny that.

* * *

Without further thinking he carried her to her bed, immediately caressing her tenderly after he had laid her naked body down on her silk drapes. He kissed the bite mark with soft lips, he let his fingers linger over her firm breasts and then wandered over the straight plain of her stomach. He hesitated at the soft curls that marked the boarders of her sex but she arched her back and invited him to her most intimate body parts. He touched her folds and found her wet and ready. He groaned her name and took one of her nipples in his mouth while he inserted a finger into her inviting moist core. She moaned loudly and arched her back even more. His tongue followed his fingers and circled around her sensitive nub while he added a second finger. She cried out his name and buried her nails into his shoulders. Not moments later she came with a force that made her body shake like an earthquake. She pulled at his shirt, forcing him to take it off and he himself unlaced his pants with trembling fingers. She opened her legs for him and he positioned himself between them, waiting somewhat longer, anticipating the moment with closed eyes before he entered her. He pushed slowly, drinking in her moans and gasps, feeling her wetness, drowning completely in her while he filled her with his pulsating member. She received him, pulling him even deeper by throwing her legs around his waist.

'You feel so good,' he whispered, 'I almost forgot how good.'

'I missed you,' she breathed in return, 'you alone can make me ... ah!' She interrupted herself with a loud groan when he pushed deep inside her, making her writhe and lifting her hips to his waist to give him all the entrance he needed and she wanted. He felt her growing tight and then release herself, washing her fluids around his hardened length, making him come inside her and filling her with his seed. He collapsed on her, panting. She let her fingers trail over his bare torso, down his arms and back to his behind where the length of her arms ended.

'You have such wonderful buttocks,' she said with a sudden giggle, 'and you so not hide them with those sinful tight leather leggings you use to wear. It's enraging. It should be outlawed!' She was so wrapped up in the knowledge that Fenris had returned to her, she had actually forgotten about what had happened that had brought him back in the first place. Well, not _forgotten_ exactly of course. Anders and what he had done to her had sunken back into another chamber of other dreadful memories. She would have to manage with it, but in another time. Not now. Now she wanted to revel in the knowledge her elf was hers, At least ...

Her eyes turned from exalted to frightened in an instant. He could not ignore that.

'Marian? What's bothering you?'

'Do you really want me? I mean, after all that happened, I don't mean today, I mean between us,' she babbled frantically, 'I don't want you to pity me, to come back to me to comfort me. I want you to be honest, not to deny your own feelings and fears – '

He cut her off with a heated kiss and left her no space to ramble further on or be uncertain about his feelings for her. In a flash he grabbed her arms and pinned them over her head. He grinned mischievously. He didn't even bother to reply, not to this frantic uttered fears. There was a better way.

'Only wonderful buttocks?' he smirked, referring to her former playful remark. She gave him a sly smile and he melted.

'Everything about you is wonderful,' she said. Making use of his surprise at her words she turned them and straddled him.

'I win,' she grinned and felt him harden between her thighs. She groaned and took his length in her hands.

'Oh my wolf,' she whispered before she moved down and took his cock in her mouth. He cried out in delight when she started to lick and suck him. She was just too good at this. Her tongue moved up and down his velvety shaft and lapped up the pearls of his arousal. Just before he almost lost himself in a mind numbing orgasm he pulled her up. He wanted to come into her womb, not her mouth. She understood him, grabbed his length and led him into her sheath, then pulled him up. He faced her, looking into her sapphire eyes. He saw nothing but love, a reflection of his own look he suspected, hoped. She pushed him deeper into her, letting flee all thoughts until he lost himself again into her after her cries and clamping walls had driven her to another peak and then again to his own. She was still riding out her relieve while she held tightly to his back. He grabbed her shoulders in return and looked into her eyes.

'Carea mia,' he whispered. 'I will always be yours.' They fell onto the mattress, he circled his arms around her, she smiled drowsily and they fell asleep, his arms firmly clenched around her body. Halfway the night she woke with a start, afraid he had left her, only to find him holding her fast in his sleep. She gave out a sigh out of wondrous happiness and fell asleep once more.

* * *

'Marian, love, are you awake?'

'I am now,' she grumbled although not sulkily. He could wake her with that mind numbing coarse velvet voice anytime. 'Keep talking,' she encouraged him, 'you never know where it will end.'

He chuckled softly. And then blew her mind away.

'Marry me,' he whispered softly.

She needed some moments to let those words sink into her brain.

'Say again?' she stammered utterly confused.

'I think you heard me very well. Marry me, Marian Hawke. I can't live without you. I don't want to live without you, And I certainly don't want to make the same mistake again. I don't want to lose you. Be my wife. Please?'

She shifted so she could eye him. He looked sincere. If not utterly filled with love. Love for her. She had a hard time not to cry. She touched his face. 'You don't have to beg me to become your wife.'

'Don't I?' he looked even more sincere. 'I've hurt you more than enough.'

She shook her head. 'No love. You just needed space. And time.' _And perhaps some appalling incident. Don't say that out loud. Leave it for now._ 'I love you Fenris, I want to be your wife if you want to be my husband.'

'I do,' he breathed on her lips.

* * *

Ultimately they granted Sebastian the honour to marry them, in the Alienage under the great Vhenadahl Tree. Because that was the place they first met.

* * *

**I truly hope you liked this little story. As I said it was meant as a one shot but perhaps I will turn it into a bigger story in the future. That is, if you want me to. So please review and give me some ideas ..?**

**And as always, thank you for reading. **


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